


Vidcalls

by ohlawsons



Series: steal the stars [5]
Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, Ficlet Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2018-10-14 17:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10541343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohlawsons/pseuds/ohlawsons
Summary: Business might keep Sophie and Reyes separated after the conclusion of their work on Kadara, but that doesn't mean they can't take time for the occasional message or visit.Or: some f!Ryder/Reyes interactions post-Kadara, because Bioware didn't give us enough in-game. Spoiler warnings will be marked at the beginning of each chapter.Update 05:re: brokenUpdate 06:re: can't let go yet





	1. re: the sound of your voice in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> i _still_ haven't finished the game but after the archon's flagship mission and doing the 3rd/4th parts of the ryder family secrets, i had no choice but to let sophie vent about some plot stuff. 
> 
> mostly chronological, for now, since i'm writing as i play through. feel free to let me know what you think, or if there's any plot points you'd like me to cover (just pls keep in mind i'm not finished!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **mission: ryder family secrets, the fourth unlocked memory**
> 
> also pls note i'm pulling stuff out of my ass for reyes' past bc all bioware gave us is """destroyed records""" with no helpful info

She didn’t go see Scott like she’d planned, or Captain Dunn, or even Kandros.

When Sophie left SAM Node, she went straight to the Tempest, waving off Suvi’s greeting and Liam’s concern and shut herself in her quarters — lights off, windows closed, with only the soft glow of SAM’s interface to light the room. She cried — a good, hard cry like she hadn’t had in years — until her eyes hurt and her head pounded and her throat was raw.

It hadn’t occurred to her until that morning that she hadn’t ever properly mourned her mother’s death. At the funeral, Sophie had been so _furious_ , so angry with Alec that it consumed her; he’d always treated her mother like a puzzle — especially as the disease worsened — and watching him stare at the casket in _disappointment_ , like his failure was more of a tragedy than her death, had been the last straw for them both. She’d only spoken to Alec in the Milky Way once, after that, and it had been about the Initiative.

But watching it all over again, seeing herself with red-rimmed eyes and tousled hair as she clung to Scott, hearing the exhaustion and grief in both of their voices — it was almost like losing her mother a second time. That hadn’t even been the worst, though; Sophie had always suspected how Alec had felt, then, but actually _experiencing_ it, feeling the wheels turning in his mind and listening to his insistence and excuses when all Ellen had wanted was a _goodbye_ , had been enough to reignite the years of rage she’d harbored against him.

And what was she to do now? Talk about it? Drink about it? Continue to sit in silence and sulk over it? Any of those options required _dealing_ with the issue — to varying degrees — and it was so much easier to just ignore it.

So that’s what she tried to do.

Pushing herself to sit upright, legs crossed, Sophie leaned against the headboard of her bed and pulled a tear-soaked pillow into her lap. She squinted against the light of her omnitool as she keyed in a familiar frequency, and as she waited for the connection to stabilize it occurred to her that she must be quite a sight, in her sweats with the hood pulled up, with nothing but her orange glow of the omnitool for light.

“It’s four in the morning, Ryder.”

She couldn’t make anything out on her omnitool’s screen, and assumed Reyes was in just as dark of a room as she was. Sleeping, probably, rather than having a minor crisis. “Damn. And here I was hoping you’d have time to get really drunk and have lots of sex.”

Sophie hadn’t missed the way her voice had wavered, and apparently neither had Reyes; there was the muted sound of shuffling from the other end of the call, then a light clicked on and Sophie was treated to a view of Reyes, without a shirt and with his usually carefully-styled hair looking delightfully mussed and unruly. “I’m not normally one to turn down an offer like that, but…” He trailed off, yawning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She fidgeted with the sleeve of her hoodie, and her resolve crumpled even without any prompting from Reyes. With a sigh, she leaned over to the panel on her bedside table and flicked on the light. “It’s stupid.  I mean, I’d be over it before I even got to Kadara, anyway.” Sophie had wanted to _avoid_ the subject, and here she was prepared to talk through it with Reyes; she hadn’t ever done anything like this with him, and found herself wondering at what point she would have to pin a label on their _thing_ — it wasn’t really a relationship; they weren’t really a couple —if they continued this trend of being about more than booze and sex and distractions on a hostile planet.

But Reyes was still waiting for an answer, and Sophie had more pressing things on her mind.

“It’s… Look, I’ll give you the short version because I don’t even know _how_ to give you the long version,” she began, hugging the pillow in her lap with her free hand. She bit at her lip as she thought, not sure where the hell to even _start_ explaining her enhanced link with SAM. “My pathfinder implant is more… complex than the others. Courtesy of my father, who apparently thought he was immortal and no one would ever have to deal with his own fucking—” With a hard sigh, Sophie let her shoulders drop and shook her head. “Not the point. Anyway, I can… _see_ , I guess, some of his memories. Experience them.”

The hand that Reyes had been holding up, shielding his eyes from the light of his own omnitool, slowly moved so he could look at Sophie. Brow furrowing, he was quiet for a minute. “I’d like the long version of that, at some point. I think.” He frowned.

“You’ll have to get it from someone else, then, because I don’t understand it. Anyway, I…” She trailed off, teeth pressing harder into her lower lip. There was a reason she usually went to Gil or Liam when something was bothering her; Liam was just so _easy_ to talk to — and their talks always began with him handing her a beer — and Gil had a knack for knowing when they needed to talk and when they needed drinks and a game of poker. It would be easier, she reckoned, if she was there _with_ Reyes, instead of just on a vidcall, but then again the _drinks and sex_ excuse might have actually worked. “SAM showed me a memory this morning, and… it was the last time I saw my mother.”

“Sophie…” Reyes pulled himself up so he was seated, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. The crisp white sheets pooled at his waist, but Sophie was too distracted to properly appreciate the view; either way, she was more focused on the concern etched into his features, a rare display for someone normally so suave and charismatic — rarer still that it was directed at Sophie. “Tell me about her.”

Not about _it_ , not about the memory, not about the way her anger at Alec had overshadowed her grief at her mother’s death.

No, Reyes wanted to know about her, about _Ellen_ , about the woman whose loss Sophie could still feel years later and a galaxy away.

“She was… kind. Above everything, she was _kind_. She was a glass-half-full type, but she had this thing about fate and acceptance and letting some things just happen. She used to always say… to say that—” Sophie took a shallow breath, feeling that familiar lump in her throat — one she’d thought she’d worked past, thought she’d trained herself to ignore when she talked about her mother.

But it was back, and all of a sudden her room felt too small — the whole ship felt too small — and she was faced with the fact that Ellen Ryder had died over six hundred years ago and Sophie had fled the galaxy where her mother was, and all she wanted was to claw her way back through dark space to Brazil.

“The first time Alec forgot mine and Scott’s birthday was when we turned seven,” she said, trying to pull herself back to the present conversation. “Scott wasn’t ever bothered by that stuff, not even then, but I just wanted us to be a _family_. I remember curling up in her lap and crying for _forever_.” Clearing her throat in an attempt to hide the shakiness that was beginning to creep into her voice, Sophie watched as Reyes studied her over the vidcall, taking in every word she spoke.

It felt good to be so openly _wanted_ , and while Sophie had relished his initial one-track-mind sort of interest in her physically, Reyes’ recent earnest and eager desire to learn about _her_ , about her life and her past, was something of a novelty for her. The relative openness they’d shared since Sloane’s death was… _nice_ , and Sophie had been trying her best to embrace it.

“I was fifteen when I learned that he forgot their anniversary most years, too,” she continued. “I got right up in his face about it, yelling and saying all sorts of shit. Scott actually picked me up and _carried_ me outside to calm down. I started buying her flowers every year — Mothers’ Day, Valentines, her birthday, anything that Alec could forget about.”

“That’s a much simpler solution that I would’ve expected from you,” Reyes commented, voice still rough with exhaustion but softened by admiration. “Then again — you _are_ still single-handedly trying to patch up the galaxy’s problems.”

“Tell me about your mother,” Sophie suggested suddenly, pulling her knees to her chest; she was beginning to get restless, the way she always did when the conversation turned too personal and too open, but this time she had no desire to change the subject or end the call. _No secrets between us_ , Reyes had said, hadn’t he, all those weeks ago in the aftermath of the Collective’s takeover of Kadara. While Sophie had thought she wanted to leave the Milky Way behind — let everything from that other life fade away —  with as much as she’d been thinking about her mother and São Paulo lately, she found herself with a fledgling interest in Reyes’ life, too.

He gave his head a little shake and laughed, a low, quiet sound that pulled a smile from Sophie. “You would have liked her, I think. She was always doing _something_ , always working or cleaning up after us kids. There were four of us, and we each had our own way of causing trouble.”

She rested one cheek on her knees, a little surge of warmth spreading through her at the soft, distant gleam in Reyes’ eyes; she hadn’t expected nostalgia from a man like him. “Big family.”

“It’s easy to feel… lost,” he admitted, looking away as his smile began to fade, “with three older siblings. Like everything’s nearly run out by the time it makes it down to you.”

“You miss them?”

“I left them long before I joined the Initiative. But… yes.”

Their call fell into silence, and Sophie felt a pang of loneliness. She missed her mother, and she missed Scott, and in a way she missed Reyes — missed being _close_ to him when all she wanted was to curl up beside him and sleep until her head stopped pounding and her chest stopped aching. “I’m gonna go see if Gil wants to grab something to drink before we have to leave the Nexus,” she decided, already dreading her decision to end the call. “And… Reyes? I know you’ve got Kadara to run these days, but when Scott’s up and walking again, I’d really like if you’d come visit.”

The corners of Reyes’ lips slowly curled up into a small smile, and when he spoke his voice was filled with a sincerity and honesty that Sophie was still getting used to. “Promise.”


	2. re: missing you is like waiting for a desert rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **mission: elaaden, no real spoilers for the planet/main storyline**  
>  in which reyes is a giant nerd and sophie is a hot mess and it was very, VERY hard to resist making an anakin joke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sidenote: guess who finished the ryder family mission and has been yelling ever since? (spoiler: it's me, and there's another chapter coming that deals with it). i didn't want this whole thing to be all angst and ryder family feels, but with the two Very Big And Important things we learned at the end of that mission, i've combined two fics down into one to deal with both issues and listen... it's about to be a bad time for sophie so buckle up and get ready for angst in the next chapter.
> 
> but for now, have some light and fluffy sightseeing.

With a little grunt of effort, Sophie pulled herself up to sit atop the Nomad. Parked beneath one of Elaaden’s vibrant — and rare — red leaved trees, high up on a plateau above the desert sands, she had a clear view of most of the area they’d already explored.

The Tempest was there, at the edge of the horizon. New Tuchanka was just visible beyond an outcropping to the east. Between them, kilometers of slow rolling dunes and sandy rock formations.

Sophie loved it.

She pulled down the scarf she’d been using to cover her nose and mouth from the sand, squinting as she checked her omnitool’s connection; the call stabilized after only a moment and Sophie bit back a grin, trying to hide just how much she’d been looking forward to speaking with Reyes again. “As promised,” she began, foregoing an actual greeting, “Elaaden, in all its krogan-filled, hellish glory.”

“I thought you said in your last email that you were _loving_ Elaaden?” Reyes asked, grinning. “Has the great Pathfinder finally found a planet she can’t handle?” He looked tired, and the circles beneath his eyes sent a pang of worry through Sophie; SAM could easily calculate local time on Kadara, yet she always forgot to ask and, as a result, had called Reyes in the middle of the night more than once. She wouldn’t mind if Reyes was losing sleep over her, just — not because she kept waking him up with her calls.

_It_ _’s approximately eight in the morning, local time_ , SAM reported dutifully over their private channel.

_Oh, thank god._ Outwardly, Sophie returned Reyes’ grin with one of her own. “I _do_ love Elaaden, but that doesn’t change the fact that it _sucks_ being planetside. Lexi won’t let me pick fights with the mercs here, Drack won’t let me pick fights with the krogan, and this fucking _heat_ is killing our life support systems.”

“But?”

“ _But_ ,” Sophie echoed with a sigh, feeling her shoulders drop as she stared out over the planet, transfixed by the landscape, “it’s beautiful. It’s just… I mean the sand, and the arches, and there’s just no end. And the _sky_! I’ve never… I don’t know how to describe it. It’s _huge_ , it’s like…” She trailed off with another sigh, unable to find the words to describe the awe she felt being on Elaaden.

It reminded her of why it was worth it, why being the Pathfinder was something worthy of doing — all the exploring and searching and getting to see the splendor and beauty of planets that were still so new and unknown. There was a certain thrill to it all, and she wasn’t sure the novelty of it would ever wear off; it wasn’t an experience that was easily replicated, getting to see a sunset on a world that had once been no more than a blip on a scan thousands of light years away.

“Here. Look.” Sophie adjusted her omnitool so Reyes’ view would no longer be of her, but of the landscape. She made a slow sweep of the horizon, making sure to catch the planet and moon that hung low in the sky. “Isn’t it amazing?” she asked as she swiveled the camera back to face her.

But Reyes looked less than impressed. “That’s a lot of sand,” he offered, clearly not sure what Sophie wanted him to say.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “We’re _explorers_ , humanity’s only hope in a new and unknown galaxy,” she pointed out, adding no small amount of embellishment to the words, “and no one seems to want to appreciate all the shit we’re _exploring_.”

Reyes laughed and shook his head. “I was _almost_ going to say you had a rather romantic view of things for someone so opposed to being told to _stop and smell the roses_.”

“Why bother stopping when you can smell them at a hundred and fifty kilometers an hour?” She gave the Nomad a loving pat.

With a wide, genuine smile, Reyes simply watched her for a moment, his eyes filled with such a mix of amusement and adoration that it made Sophie a bit self conscious. She glanced out at the sand, only looking back when Reyes spoke. “See, things like this are why I—” He faltered, covering up whatever he was about to say with a rather conspicuous cough. “—why I’m glad you call.”

“Good, because I plan to keep calling.” Sophie debated brushing off the entire awkwardness of the moment with a joke; she held back, not sure if it was the softness in Reyes’ voice or his expression that made her hesitate. “I talked to SAM, by the way. He can figure out what time it is in Kadara Port, so I shouldn’t be calling in the middle of the night any more.” In a quieter voice, she added, “You look like you need the sleep.”

“I’m—” Whatever argument Reyes had planned deflated almost immediately, and he gave in with a sigh. “Yes. I do. With Keema’s help, running things hasn’t been _too_ much to handle, but there have been… _growing pains_ , of a sort, with your outpost. Everything’s fine with Ditaeon,” he assured her quickly, “but it takes up more of my time than I’d anticipated to make sure it stays that way.”

Sophie frowned, torn between guilt that she’d left Reyes to deal with the problems of an Initiative outpost and a sort of pleased satisfaction that he was following through with his promise to look after Diteaon.

_Their_ outpost, he’d called it, and even though she was sure he had been referring to the joint efforts of the Nexus and the Collective, she still felt a shock of warmth when she thought about it.

“I’ll stop by when we’re done here,” she decided. “I can talk to Christmas, see what I can do to help.”

“Just Christmas?” Reyes asked, taking a tone of mock offense. “I may need the sleep, but don’t think you aren’t a woman worth staying up for.”

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile at the forced innocence in his tone; Reyes could be a bit of a cheese ball sometimes, but he was _her_ cheese ball, and there was something endearing in that. “Alright, calm down, it’ll be another few weeks so don’t wait up for me. Besides,” she added, lips curling into a little smirk as she matched Reyes’ innocent tone, “you never seem to get much sleep when I’m around.”

Reyes’ response was cut off by the low _hiss_ of one of the Nomad’s side doors sliding open. “Just so you know,” Liam called out, “the Nomad _isn_ _’t_ soundproof, and Vetra’s run out of dextro snacks.”

“Alright, alright,” Sophie surrendered with a sigh; they’d have to head back to the Tempest, anyway — if only so she could get all the sand out of her armor — and now was as good a time as any. It had been a long day. “Hey, Reyes, what do you say I patch you in to the Nomad’s comms? No vids, unfortunately, but then it’ll give Liam a great chance to chat with you.” She knew Liam didn’t have any _real_ issues with Reyes; he’d been worried about Sophie, originally, but she was fairly certain he’d come to terms with everything.

“Yeah, then _he_ can listen to all your commentary on all the camps and ruins we pass,” Liam suggested dryly.

Amused, Reyes cocked an eyebrow. “What did he say?”

“That I’m a fantastic tour guide and he wholeheartedly approves of this idea.”

“Ah. Well, in _that_ case,” Reyes said with a shrug, the combination of his grin and tone of voice suggesting that he was well aware that Sophie hadn’t quite told the truth, “how could I turn down such an offer? And you should know, by now, that I’m always willing to make time for you.”

“Careful, Vidal,” Sophie warned with a crooked grin of her own, “or I might think you’re sweet on me.”

He winked. “That was always the plan.”


	3. re: you move me more than any song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _prompt from tumblr: desire is no light thing_
> 
> in which sophie has A Crisis while dancing at tartarus. set at some vague point after the archon's flagship mission, no story spoilers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "hey brooke remember when you were actually working on this fic like two months ago" listen okay i have no idea what _self-control_ is and i've got approximately a million other wips. 
> 
> BUT. i had a prompt and some inspiration, and even though this is out of order i wanted to post it here bc it's _something_. and don't worry, i AM still writing stuff for sophie and reyes, just... slowly.

It's heavy, and it pulls her down like a comfortable weight and she surrenders without a thought. It presses in on her, coils in her chest and the pressure is so familiar – so _normal_ – that it's intoxicating. Tartarus is loud but it can't drown it out; the deep bass thrums in her ears, keeping time with her pulse, but when he speaks his voice cuts through the noise and she's enraptured.

She runs a hand through sweat-damp hair, catches a lip between her teeth when she knows he's watching, and when he leaves for the bar she follows. He orders a beer – makes it two – and she lounges back against the bar and loudly mourns the loss of all the good tequila she had back home. He watches her as she talks, spinning stories out of half-truths to keep from crumbling beneath the weight of the desire; she returns his gaze, doing less to hide the way her eyes linger.

The beer's cheap but she drinks it anyway, because he's finally paying and she never turns down free alcohol, and sometime after her third bottle the atmosphere begins to get to her again; the slow beat of the music, the heady energy from the dance floor, the occasional brush of contact she shares with him – it pulls at her, tugs her down, and her patience bends and buckles and snaps.

_Let's get out of here_.

She manages coy where she feels desperate, feigns composure where she has none, and the locks on the door to his upstairs room haven't even clicked into place before she's reaching for him; she grabs at his shirt, pulling him closer as she lets herself back flush against the wall. One of his hands rests on the wall beside her and the other grips at her waist and her hip and the small of her back, pulling her in and holding her close as if she isn't already pressed against him.

It's a distraction – an excuse, something to hide behind so they don't have to trip and stumble over their words – but she doesn't care, because the way he moans against her parted lips is so much better than fucking up a conversation about her feelings, anyway. It's a conversation that's long past due, and she thinks about stopping, thinks about the well-rehearsed opening line that's worn itself into her thoughts – _I've been falling in love with you and it's crazy but everything in Andromeda's been crazy and I think if anyone has a chance, it's us_ – but instead she tugs at his bottom lip with her teeth, rolls her hips against him, and prays to Suvi's god for the courage to have that conversation one day.

He says something she doesn't catch, something whispered – maybe a curse, maybe a confession, maybe a prayer of his own but it's lost beneath her own labored breathing. He says her name, next, and she catches it, catches the heat and desire in that single word and her heart stutters in her chest as that warm pressure encircles her again; she doesn't beg but she _demands_ , and as one of his hands slips beneath the waistband of her shorts she instructs him, and her voice shakes as she gasps but it doesn't matter, because he knows her as well as she knows him and so much between them goes unspoken yet understood.

And it isn't just the sex – and _this_ isn't just sex, it's more than just drinking and fucking and leaving – but she doesn't admit that, doesn't allow herself to have someone who knows all of her flaws and secrets and shortcomings. She's reckless, and she's ruined whole parts of her life because of it, but this one stupid, thoughtless decision to trust a man who wouldn't even pay for his own whiskey is one of the best choices she's ever made, and it isn't fair that it's a liar and a criminal who's completely unraveled her and so effortlessly drawn the truth from her.

Except he's gone and made a liar out of her, too, because she holds her confession back and it holds her down and she sometimes wonders if she'll collapse under the weight of it or if the stress of being Pathfinder will get to her first.

It would be a simple thing to admit – she's said it before, after all, to other men and women only half as deserving – but it's his name that rolls off her lips, falling quieter as she steadies herself and his hand withdraws and her gasping breaths grow calmer. But her heart still races and her mind keeps pace, because she wants him but she's always wanted him and it's different now – there's a weight to it, like everything between them is at stake and it pulls at her until she can't ignore it.

_I love you. I love you and it scares me and I don't know how to tell you_.

So she doesn't tell him – she kisses him and says _your turn_ and presses a hand to his chest to guide him backwards to the couch. The words stick at the back of her throat so she drops into his lap and kisses him again, because they have nothing but time and she is, occasionally, capable of being patient, so rather than speak she gives in and surrenders to the comfortable weight of the desire that's settled over her.


	4. re: [draft deleted]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which reyes has thinky thoughts, sophie avoids thinky thoughts, and kheema doesn't get paid enough for this shit. takes place directly after ch. 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you believe it took me three months to write this chapter
> 
> like i said, i am still working on stuff for these two. it's just rly slow going at this point.

_Love_.

It was a word Reyes had almost let slip the last time he’d spoken with Sophie, when she’d been driving through Elaaden and called just to share the view. It was just a figure of speech, a meaningless phrase that held no significance. Not really. It had caught him off-guard, is all.

_Things like that are why I love you_.

He’d caught himself, had managed to redirect the conversation without any comment from Sophie; still, several hours later as he attempted to read through reports coming in from various agents, Reyes couldn’t quite clear his mind of the vidcall. What he had with Sophie was… it wasn’t yet at that point, he didn’t think. The problem was, he wasn’t sure what point they _were_ at.

The two of them had spent a few scattered weeks together before removing Sloane, and in the months since then Sophie had only been back to Kadara once; in some ways, they were still testing the boundaries of their relationship, especially in the wake of Reyes’ confession about his involvement with the Collective. He was still adamant that he wouldn’t be keeping any more secrets, that he would be entirely open with Sophie and tell her anything she wanted to know. The problem, he was finding, was that Sophie didn’t seem to _want_ that openness, and seemed even less interested in reciprocating. It didn’t bother him _too_ much — Reyes was well aware that he still had a ways to go in re-earning Sophie’s trust, and besides, he wasn’t going to pry into a past that he had just enough information on to know was filled with pain and bad memories.

When Sophie felt comfortable enough to share, she would, and if she never reached that point, Reyes wouldn’t force the issue.

He was a patient man, and Sophie — as reckless and stubborn and impulsive as she could be — was worth waiting for.

“Are you buying anything, or are you just going to sit there and pout at my bar?”

Reyes looked up, finding a rather cross looking Umi staring down at him, one hand on her hip and the other planted on the bar. “I’m waiting for someone,” he lied, flashing her the most charming smile he could conjure up. There was _some_ truth to it, he supposed, in that he was beginning to feel like he was constantly waiting for Sophie — for her next visit, next call, next message — but it was always easy to feign an unreliable business contact. “And I’m not _pouting_ , my dear Umi.”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and gave one hand a little wave. “I’m not running a charity here. Either buy a drink, or wait somewhere else.”

He made a show of inspecting the comm display on his omni-tool, checking the time before transferring a few credits to Umi. “If my contact shows up looking for me, let them know to be more punctual next time.” With a wink — and a grin at the asari’s resulting sigh — Reyes left Kralla’s Song, taking the long way through the port and giving himself plenty of time to organize his thoughts before returning to Tartarus and Collective business.

Falling into a slow, leisurely pace, Reyes let his gaze follow the Kadaran rooftops, running along the edge of darkening skyline. There was so much _out there_ , and where before he would’ve only seen outposts and smugglers in the wastes of the Kadaran wilds, his mind now wandered to mountains and horizons and the wide open sky that seemed so much _bigger_ away from the lights of the port; it was Sophie’s influence — her excitement and passion and fascination with the unknown — that had rubbed off on him, so that some part of his mind was always at least a little bit occupied with _her_.

( _Sophie would love this view_ , when he was meeting a contact out in the mountains above some of the sulfurous pools that dotted the sprawling plains of the Kadaran wastelands. _If Sophie were here, that definitely would_ _’ve turned into a fight_ , whenever he was faced with a disagreement, whether business-related or a simple misunderstanding at a bar. _Hard to believe that Blasto collectibles count as contraband_ _… but Sophie would probably appreciate if I got my hands on some_ , when a strange but profitable shipment crossed his path.

He even occasionally woke with her on his mind, an aching amplified by the sense of sleeping in an otherwise empty bed. She always apologized for calling in the middle of the night, but some part of him didn’t care — not when it meant her voice was the first he heard upon waking.)

There was no sense in denying that he cared for her, or that he trusted her unconditionally, or that when she was gone he missed her to the point that it was almost embarrassing — except it wasn’t, because he didn’t care and it was _Sophie_ and anyone with any sense would’ve missed having her around — but he was stuck on this one little word, on _love_ , because he wasn’t quite there yet but he was certainly headed in that direction. There was something off about it, something he couldn’t quite place; maybe it was the fact that they’d actually spent so little time together, or that he’d promised to be completely open with her and she hadn’t seemed interested, or that he knew Sophie wasn’t in the same place and trying to breach the subject before she was comfortable would be the very opposite of helpful.

When Reyes reached Tartarus, his thoughts were even more scattered than when he’d left Kralla’s Song, and it was with some hesitance that he forced it all out of his mind in favor of Collective reports.

Or, at least, he _tried_ , but with every email and message and call his thoughts wandered back to Sophie.

* * *

 

_[ Draft 1 of 3 ]_

**_To:_** _Ryder, Sophie (sophie.ryder@hyp.nexus.ai)_  
**From:** Vidal, Reyes (Error)  
**Subject:** Up for another party?

_Sophie,_

_Kadara_ _’s been calm lately. I won’t complain about the lack of raids or attacks, but I could use a_ little _excitement. I_ _’m thinking about throwing another party — and I know you like yours to be loud and crowded, but I was considering something a bit quieter. You, me, a bottle of wine? After dealing with the krogan on Elaaden, a night in has to sound at least somewhat appealing._

_—Reyes_

_PS: if that_ _’s_ too _romantic, I could always be persuaded to track down some more Milky Way whiskey._

* * *

 

Two days later and Reyes was still mulling over the problem in his mind.

He’d talked it over with Kheema, and she’d scoffed and said something that his translator hadn’t picked up. “Ryder already _knows_ ,” she reasoned. “You laid out the truth for her, didn’t you? Even if you hadn’t, there’s no way you could hide… _this_.” She waved a hand in his direction and made a sound of indignance. “I’m not sure if it’s sad, or adorable.”

“Hide _what_?”

“Oh, Reyes.” She didn’t say anything else after that, simply giving her head a slow shake.

“ _What_?” he repeated flatly, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. Even at such a relatively early hour in the morning, the slow, steady beat of Tartarus’ bass-heavy music was bleeding into Reyes’ upper room; it wasn’t a song he was fond of, but the rhythm conjured up an image in his mind, one of Sophie dancing in the driver’s seat of the Nomad as they drove through the Badlands, singing along with the wrong words as Liam encouraged her from the backseat.

Pulling himself back out from his thoughts, Reyes glanced back up at Kheema to find her giving him a pointed look, lips down-turned into a frown that was more exasperation than disappointment. “You’ve talked of nothing but the Pathfinder since meeting her,” she sighed, “and here I was thinking you were holding something back. But you really haven’t figured it out, have you?”

“And here I thought we’d established that it isn’t helpful when you’re this cryptic.”

“I’m not _trying_ to be cryptic. Just tell me, then — when it comes to Ryder,” Kheema challenged, “ _what_? What is it that you want out of this?”

The question caught Reyes off-guard, and he looked away as he thought. When it came to Sophie — and him, and their relationship — he wanted… what? For her to stay on Kadara with him?

_No_. He frowned to himself, not missing the twitch of Kheema’s lips as she held back a wry smile. He couldn’t ask Sophie to stay on Kadara, in part because he knew she wouldn’t ever agree and in part because it wouldn’t ever be what she wanted; Sophie was too _much_ — so much passion and energy and personality — to ever stay in one place, and she belonged out amongst the stars and the unexplored planets and not _here_ , in a dirty port city filled with people who would never be good enough for her.

Like Reyes.

_You_ _’re a better man than you give yourself credit for_ , she’d told him once, in her quarters on the Tempest as they’d worked everything out after confronting Sloane. _You_ _’ve got a big heart under this rugged exterior. The most important part right now, though, is that I don’t give a shit. I never expected you to be a saint. I want_ you _, and I mean all of you — even in a mushy feelings way. Look, you_ _’re making me talk about feelings. If that doesn’t convince you that I’m serious, I don’t know what will._

It _had_ convinced him; he believed Sophie when she said that she didn’t care, but that didn’t magically make things better. She knew he was the Charlatan, yes, and she had an idea of what that meant, but she didn’t know everything. Reyes had blood on his hands — mostly figuratively, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t claim responsibility for more than a few dishonorable kills — and looking the other way didn’t change that. By contrast, Sophie was the closest thing to the physical embodiment of _hope_ that Reyes had ever seen; the entire Nexus looked up to her, as did many of the exiles, and a good amount of the angara. It was difficult for her to have such a burden on her shoulders, and she hadn’t ever been shy about confiding that much in him, but it all came so _naturally_ to her and all of the positivity and dedication that she exuded was just so _genuine_ that, for a moment, Reyes felt his heart clench at the thought of it.

“I want her to be happy,” he said slowly, finally able to take his feelings about Sophie and force them into words.

To his surprise, Kheema sighed, her expression twisting into one of dissatisfaction. “Well, I suppose that’s a start.”

* * *

 

_[ Draft 2 of 3 ]_

**_To:_ ** _Ryder, Sophie (sophie.ryder@hyp.nexus.ai)_  
**From:** Vidal, Reyes (Error)  
**Subject:** Umi says _“hi”_

_Sophie,_

_Kralla_ _’s Song is losing business without you there to start bar fights. Umi and some of her regulars keep insisting that they’re glad the Pathfinder isn’t on Kadara anymore, but I think they actually just miss all the excitement you cause._

_I know I do._

_—Reyes_

_PS: To be clear, it isn_ _’t the bar fights I miss. It’s you._

* * *

 

“I mean, can you _believe_ it? Half the reason I even came to Elaaden was for the chance to fight a goddamned krogan _overlord_ , and instead I’m working with her. Eugh.” Sophie’s image on the vidscreen disappeared momentarily as she leaned backwards, rubbing at her eyes.

Reyes looked up from his datapad, most of his focus once again aimed at the vid call. It had only been a few hours since he’d spoken with Kheema that morning, and he couldn’t shake the conversation from his mind. “You, Sophie Ryder, backed down from a fight?” he teased, forcing a lighthearted tone.

She shot back up, peering at him from between her fingers. “Uh, did you miss the part where I’m single-handedly ensuring the survival of the Nexus?” One hand dropped into her lap and the other raked through her wind-tousled hair as worry began to creep into her expression. “Wait — is everything okay? I didn’t call in the middle of the night again, did I? I should—”

“It’s fine,” he assured her quickly. “I just… There’s a lot on my mind.” A perfectly reasonable excuse, and one that happened to also be entirely true; Reyes had found Sophie occupying most of his thoughts, moreso than usual, and Kheema’s question had left him restless and unfocused. Opting for a bit more sincerity, he added, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about _us_ , actually.”

“ _Us_?” Sophie echoed, one eyebrow cocking upwards as the concern smoothed from her face. “I almost start a war with the krogan _one time_ and you start having second thoughts? I should warn you,” she said with a grin, eyes alight with the sort of mischief Reyes’ missed, “picking fights is a habit I don’t plan on giving up.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

“Good.” She paused, and when Sophie spoke again there was a hesitance to her words. “So… what exactly _have_ you been thinking about? With us? Because if it involves sex I want to hear _all_ about it, and if it’s… bad, then, you know, I would appreciate the heads up.”

Reyes schooled his expression into one that was carefully neutral, hiding the way that Sophie’s words stung; it was unintentional, he knew, but every reminder of Sophie’s discomfort and mistrust left Reyes cursing the way she’d discovered his Collective ties. He’d _meant_ to tell her, and even if his good intentions had come far too late he was now doing his best to make up for it, by being as open with her as he could, every step of the way. “It’s not bad. Or, it doesn’t have to be. I’ve been wondering where this is going.” He did his best to hold back a frown, carefully watching as Sophie’s expression became more closed off. “If that’s even something you’ve considered.”

“I… sure!” Sophie flashed a lopsided smile, but her voice was forcibly chipper and her grin faltered and twisted into a grimace. “I’ve definitely… done some considering.”

He gave his head a slow shake; he hadn’t expected her to have put much thought into the future — or any — given how little planning ahead Sophie _ever_ did. “It’s not a conversation that has to happen right now. It’s just a _heads up_ , as you put it.”

“Right. Okay. Good, because you caught me off-guard, there.” Looking away for a moment, Sophie pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She looked thoughtful — if a bit uncomfortable, cramped in the driver’s seat of the Nomad. “Could it? Happen right now? Because if it did, I’d say this whole _going somewhere_ thing sounds pretty good. I don’t know where the hell something like this _goes_ , but one thing at a time, right?”

“One thing at a time,” Reyes agreed.

“I have thought about it, you know,” Sophie informed him quietly, resting her chin on her knees. “Any time I’ve had something like this before, I… It—” She paused, letting out a little huff of a sigh before continuing. “Most people like neat little relationships where you plan and commit and celebrate anniversaries and shit. I… I like how things are with us. It’s so…” she trailed off again, ruffling her curls as her expression twisted with thought.

A dozen words came to mind — _fragile; distant; careless_ — but outwardly, he offered, “Unpredictable?”

“In the moment.”

“Oh?”

“If I want to talk to you, I just call. If I don’t, I don’t,” she explained, her discomfort finally seeming to lift somewhat. “We never have more than a few days together at a time, so we don’t ever waste time on plans that would just get fucked over by Nexus or Collective business anyway —  we just do whatever sounds best right _then_. It’s like… this whole thing, it’s not about _having_ a relationship, it’s just… about _us_.”

There was a bitterness to Sophie’s words that piqued Reyes’ curiosity, but he pushed it aside; it wasn’t the time, and besides, for the moment he was more interested in Sophie’s logic than the reasoning behind it. “So if I were to begin planning lavish date nights and elaborate declarations of my affections…?” He kept his tone light — casual but not quite joking — in an attempt to encourage this brief moment of complete openness from Sophie.

Her brow furrowed, and she simply watched  him for several seconds, the silence just beginning to creep towards awkwardness when she finally spoke, voice barely audible over the vid call. “I don’t know.” Sophie’s demeanor was nearly impossible to decipher; she was clearly still deep in thought, but between the dim interior of the Nomad and the less-than-perfect connection, Reyes couldn’t gauge whether her hesitance was borne of discomfort or uncertainty.

“Should I try planning something and we’ll see how it goes in the moment?”

“I don’t think it would matter,” she said slowly, eyes dropping from the vid screen to stare at something out of Reyes’ view. “I think… I think I trust you, and I think you should know that, and I don’t want to ruin this by obsessing over the future.”

Something about her choice of words made things click into place for Reyes; an equally stilted conversation from weeks before came to mind, and all of Sophie’s rage at her father and grief over her mother became once again relevant in an entirely new way. Perhaps, he wondered, admitting that she feared following in her parents’ footsteps and sabotaging their relationship was the closest Sophie would get to admitting she believed they _had_ a future, and one she wanted.

But that was a topic better suited to a conversation that didn’t take place over vid comm.

Reyes’ brow knit together and he studied Sophie’s image as he contemplated exactly how to answer. It _ached_ , the way Andromeda seemed to continuously poke and prod at old wounds that Sophie had only haphazardly mended back in the Milky Way, and for a moment all he could think to do was to curse the Initiative and Sophie’s role as Pathfinder and his distance from her. All he wanted was to hold her and comfort her and help her in any way he could, but she wasn’t the sort to take the time to heal properly; no, Sophie would go down fighting, whether against the kett or against the memory of her father,  without any backup or contingency plans.

In combat, all Reyes could do was stand at her side; now, however, he suspected he might be able to at least steer her from the topic that was causing her so much frustration. “Then I’ll do only the most spontaneous of planning, from here on out.”

“Bullshit.” The corner of Sophie’s lips curled into the slightest grin, and some of the spark returned to her eyes. “You _breathe_ plans, Reyes. Just don’t… don’t make the _relationship_ more important than _us_.”

He’d once been prepared to let her walk away, both for his beliefs and her own happiness; it would only be harder, a second time — especially now that they’d begun to mend the damage done when he’d confronted Sloane — but it was a path Reyes was prepared to walk if it became necessary. “That, at least, I _can_ promise.”

* * *

 

_[ Draft 3 of 3 ]_

**_To:_** _Ryder, Sophie (sophie.ryder@hyp.nexus.ai)_  
**From:** Vidal, Reyes (Error)  
**Subject:** Do Pathfinders get vacation days?

_Sophie,_

_Think you can spare some time to come back to Kadara?_

_We never got the chance for a proper date night, and I_ _’d like to have a conversation that’s actually in person._

_—Reyes_

_PS: It_ _’s nothing bad. Promise._


	5. re: broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt:** the way you said "i love you" -- broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave

There were stories about what biotics could do.

 

They could fuck a person up, or liven things up in the bedroom, or be entirely lethal. Reyes had seen enough red sand back in the Milky Way to confirm the first, had been with enough asari to confirm the second, and was currently watching Sophie confirm the third.

It had been a while since they’d fought alongside each other, and though Reyes had noticed her biotics the first time, they now seemed much more prominent. It was such an  _unfair_ distraction, turning in the middle of a firefight only to find his girlfriend floating, glowing blue, and grinning as she quite literally tore a machine apart with her mind.

She had begun to lag behind the group as they pushed further into Meridian, and the combination of taunts and commands she called out over the fighting slowly grew more weary and less fiery. Reyes hadn’t thought too much of it – they were  _all_ tiring, with the breakneck pace they were taking – until Sophie sent a wave of biotic energy cascading down one of the walkways, tossing a dozen kett and remnant off into the emptiness below.

The force of the shockwave sent Sophie stumbling backwards, and Reyes shook his head as he took advantage of the opportunity to pause and catch his breath. “Save some for the rest of us, Pathfinder,” he called, hoping he didn’t sound as exhausted as he felt.

But there wasn’t the retort or the tired laughter he’d been expecting, and Reyes looked back to find that Sophie hadn’t moved from where she was sprawled out amongst scattered pieces of remnant.

“Sophie?” He wasn’t  _panicking –_ his pulse had spiked and his voice was strained and now he was running but it wasn’t  _panic_  – because nothing was wrong.  _Couldn’t_ be wrong. He was going to walk over and find her staring up with that crooked grin of hers and she’d have some lame one-liner, and they’d carry on and  _he wasn’t panicking_. 

Reyes reached Sophie at the same time Cora did; she seemed less frantic than he did, quickly checking over the still Pathfinder with quiet concern. She had a pulse, and she was breathing – both were a bit shaky, and Reyes found himself holding Sophie to him as Cora ran her scanner over her.

“She’ll be fine,” Cora said after a moment. She began searching through some of the pouches on Sophie’s armor, only to stop after two or three with an exasperated sigh. “Of course she doesn’t.” 

“What?”

Cora reached into a pouch at her own waist, pulling out a small drink. “SAM usually keeps everything balanced for her, but most biotics have to be pretty careful about overdoing it. She still has her old amp and implant, but they can’t handle this sort of activity.” She held up the drink. “Energy drink. It’s how the rest of us get by without supercomputers to compensate. Make sure she finishes the whole thing, or she’ll just pass out again.” Cora paused, frowning, and glanced around before turning back to them. “We can’t stay here. As soon as she’s up, we need to move.”

Reyes took the drink and continued to sit with Sophie, vaguely aware of Cora’s voice as she called out orders to the others. “So, you just kept going when you should’ve stopped.” He was as relieved as he was worried; trying to tell Sophie not to push her limits wasn’t something that ever worked, and he had no doubts that she would continue to use her biotics as much as she had been.

He hoped Cora had a lot more of those energy drinks.

“You should really listen to some of us, sometimes,” he pointed out to her, trying to wipe off some blood splatter from her cheek but only smearing it with his glove. “Some of us – we care about you.”

Reyes faltered; seeing Sophie silent and unmoving was jarring, and unsettled him more than he could’ve imagined. In all the chaos of Meridian,  _she_ was what was most important, and not just because she was the Pathfinder; because whether or not they managed to find a new home, he had  _her_ , and that was… 

Well, it was more important than he’d realized. 

“Maybe some people tell you to stop because they don’t believe in you, or they want to hold you back.” He didn’t say Alec’s name, but he could hear the way Sophie would’ve interjected it – like a slow curse beneath her breath, accompanied by an overdone roll of her eyes. “Some of us just want to see you safe. Because we care. Or because we love you.”

The confession felt all wrong, too  _serious_ when it should’ve been accompanied by whatever smartass remark Sophie would undoubtedly come up with. 

“Like Liam.”

There; that was better.

He would’ve been content to sit there and continue talking to her – well, not  _content_ ; he would rather have her up and moving – but after a few moments Sophie stirred, shifting in his arms as her eyes opened. She blinked a few times, her expression twisting in discomfort. 

“Hey.”

“ _Hey_ , yourself.” Reyes pressed a light kiss to her forehead, then reached for the energy drink. “Cora says you overdid the biotics.”

“That’s an understatement,” Sophie groaned, ignoring the drink and pushing herself up so she was sitting. “I’m sticking to guns until I get SAM back. Help me up?”

Reyes stood and pulled her up with him, keeping a hold of her as she regained her balance. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

She let out a slow, steady breath, determination shining in her eyes. “No. Doesn’t matter.” She began to walk to where Cora was keeping watch, but Reyes stopped her. 

“Sophie.” He waited until she turned to look at him, hoping he could somehow convey the depth of his seriousness. “It matters to the rest of us. We’re not going to let you lose Scott, but that doesn’t mean we can lose you instead.”

She gave him a small smile, but her voice was tired when she spoke. “Well, then, let’s go get him.”

 


	6. re: can't let go yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **prompt:** "can't let go yet" kiss

“Curls.”

“Hmm?”

“Curls,” Sophie repeats sleepily, joining Reyes where he stands at the kitchenette, watching as the coffee finishes brewing. She’d been distracted by the discovery of loose curls in his damp, unstyled hair, but now her eyes trace lazy lines across his body; there’s a certain beauty to him, here, olive skin washed in the warm light of the Kadaran morning, and something about the way he’s standing – shirtless and barefoot, all taut muscle and tired pout – is unbearably picturesque in its stillness. 

She almost doesn’t want to break the serenity of the moment, but then he yawns and it’s broken anyway so she reaches for him; her arms wrap around his waist and she rests her chin on his shoulder and joins him in staring at the coffee, stifling a yawn of her own.

“You have curly hair,” she clarifies finally. “It’s cute.”

He gives a dissatisfied grunt. “Yes, despite my best efforts.” One hand reaches up, and he combs his fingers through his hair to smooth down the curls; he gives up quickly, settling for swiping away a single lock that falls down onto his forehead. “You like it?”

She gives a low, warm laugh in answer and presses a kiss to his bare shoulder. “I can’t believe I never noticed before.”

It’s…  _nice_ , this quiet morning that Ditaeon has given them. When the settlers had first arrived, Christmas had ensured that Sophie had an apartment of her own – it’s just the top floor of a standard prefab, but it’s hers and it’s roomy and  _oh_ , the view is breathtaking – but all of her visits to Kadara since then have either been too short or too wrapped up in business to take any real time to herself. 

But  _this_ trip, even though they’ve told the Initiative they’re on Kadara to resupply, is nothing more than a vacation. Two (mostly) uninterrupted days, where Sophie’s worries are limited to Reyes, Kadara, and the remainder of Sloane’s alcohol. 

The first day had gone much like any other trip to Kadara – drinking, dancing, and a long ride out in the Nomad – except they’d ended the night in Ditaeon, comfortably tipsy and speaking just a little too loud as Sophie led Reyes to her apartment.

(She’d felt like she was seventeen and back on the Citadel, where all it took was a sloppy hacking job and a little luck and she was sneaking in and out at night to meet up with whoever she was dating at the time. The long makeout sessions and sloppy, rushed sex had seemed like all she was good at, back then, and it had taken a long time away from Alec for Sophie to shake that mindset.

He’d caught her with a girl, once, half-undressed and pushed against the wall of her bedroom. She’d been so embarrassed and angry that she’d threatened to leave home, and if there had been someplace on the Citadel that was comparable to Ditaeon, she might have actually done it.)

For all they’d had planned the night before, they’d been too exhausted to do much more than collapse into bed; Sophie had awoken content but alone, greeted by the smell of coffee brewing and the sound of the shower running. She’d grumbled about the relatively early hour, but Reyes’ reappearance a few minutes later had been just enough to tear her out of bed. 

She still isn’t sure she got enough sleep, but the coffee  _might_ be enough to change her mind; as the coffee maker finishes, Sophie pulls away from Reyes to search for coffee cups, finally finding some in one of the cabinets. They’re stamped with the Initiative logo – naturally – and Reyes gives her a look of mock disgust before taking the mug she hands to him. 

Sophie settles into one of the barstools at the counter, sipping at her own coffee and watching as Reyes walks over to the large window that makes up the entirety of one of the apartment’s walls. He places his free hand on his hip and surveys the land that sprawls out towards the horizon. and Sophie’s so mesmerized by him that she nearly misses when he speaks. “I like it here.”

“Diteaon?” she asks, keeping her voice deceptively innocent. “Or my apartment?”

From where she’s sitting, she can just barely make out the little half-grin that forms on Reyes’ lips. “Oh, definitely both. But I was referring specifically to Diteaon.”

“It’s nice.” Leaving her coffee on the countertop, Sophie stands and makes her way towards Reyes, unable to leave so much distance between them. “It’s a good start,” she amends, crossing her arms. “Nice view, big backyard, the neighbors are decent – but I’ve always wanted something pretentiously flashy, y’know? Tall archways, enormous chandeliers, maybe an indoor pool.”

He gives her a sidelong glance, one eyebrow quirking upwards. “On Kadara?”

She shrugs. “Why not? I’m the Pathfinder. I’ll have a mansion on every goddamn planet out there.”

He laughs at that, but he’s still distracted, staring out across the Badlands. The apartment falls into silence, and just as Sophie is about to ask if Reyes wants breakfast – there’s nothing decent in the apartment, but they can always head to the Tempest – he sighs and shakes his head and turns towards her. “Kheema called this morning,” he reveals. “There was an… incident in the Port last night. Protests from Outcast supporters.  _Violent_ protests.”

“And you have to go deal with it,” Sophie guesses, pursing her lips and hoping she can hide the worst of her disappointment; there’s a pang in her chest at the news, a little like having the wind knocked out of her, and for a second she wishes she hadn’t helped win Kadara for Reyes, that he hadn’t outplayed Sloane. 

But he  _had_ , and that victory came with responsibilities that he now has to attend to, so Sophie lets Reyes finish getting ready while she settles back onto the barstool and tries to look like she isn’t pouting. 

“You’re sure it’s nothing I can help with?” she asks, leaning up against the doorway to the bathroom as Reyes finishes styling his hair – perfectly straightened and slicked back, as usual. 

“No. It’s… delicate.” He looks up, catching her eye in the reflection in the mirror. “I’m not Sloane – I’m not planning to beat the problem until it disappears. That’s how you end up with people like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“People who work from the shadows because rising up ends with your head on a pike.”

“Oh.” She moves aside as Reyes brushes past her, grabbing his boots from where they lay beside the bed; when he’s finished pulling them on he joins Sophie again, one hand resting at her waist and the other gently tilting her chin upwards. She knows he’s going to apologize, but the look he’s giving her is filled with such softness and regret that she doesn’t think he really needs to. “Make it good,” she instructs.

“I’m sorry.” He kisses her, then, just a light brush of his lips against hers. “If it were anything else, I would let someone else take care of it.” Another kiss. “I know you can’t stay any longer and I don’t want to ruin your trip, so maybe I can work something out for before you leave tonight.”

She tilts her head, pretending to be deep in thought; it doesn’t matter, not really, because she knows she’ll take any chance she gets to spend time with Reyes. “Hmm. That depends on what you had in mind.”

“We could go to that old outpost, the one that overlooks the valley,” he begins, his thumb gliding across her cheek as his gaze flicks down to her lips; she can almost hear the wheels turning in his head – she can certainly  _see_ it in his eyes, in the distracted way he’s staring at her. “We could start with dinner and a bottle of wine, and see where it goes from there.”

She doesn’t miss the suggestion in his tone, and any pretense of consideration is gone. “Deal.” She leans up to kiss him, and maybe it’s meant as a goodbye – as a quick thing, something normal and easy and routine – but as soon as Reyes begins to pull away, Sophie curls a finger in his belt loops and gives him a gentle tug towards her, closing what little distance is between them.

Reyes complies, his grip on her waist tightening as he dips his head down; it isn’t until one of Sophie’s hands slips beneath his shirt that he pulls away again, giving his head an apologetic shake. “I have to go take care of this.”

“Right, I know,” she sighs. “Sorry.” She loops her arms around his neck, letting him simply hold her for a moment. “But just so you know,” Sophie adds, voice nearly a whisper and lips close enough to just barely brush against Reyes’ ear, “I’ll be waiting, wearing nothing but that jacket you left on the Tempest last time, and if you take too long – well, I might have to get started without you.” With that, she untangles herself from Reyes and gives him a quick peck on the cheek. “Have fun.”

 


End file.
